#these people are gonna end up driving him off the internet and i wouldn't blame him one bit

[f1owermoon]

sorry i just. need to rant for a second

[dwntwn-strnlo]

FRISKY - sunburn two

-------------- "when you're gone like sunburn or you're here like rain."

'~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~''~'

A/N ; this is the farthest ive gone into the deep end when it comes to writing so 🤷‍♀️

SYPNOPSIS ; so much effort

PAIRING ; toxic!matthew sturniolo x toxic!reader

CONTENT WARNING ; angst, drinking from both parties (ik sorry sorry but i had too for it to fit the song), profanity, toxic!matt AND toxic!reader, verbal arguing, multiple mentions of sex, mentions of a fwb relationship, unresolved ending

toast your dilemma baby,

it's mid december, and matt looks like his head might blow off. the orange light overhead gently accentuated his undeniably upset, but still soft, kind features. you watched him as he carelessly tilted his head back, downing the rest of his drink.

you picked at the food on your plate, pushing it around with your fork as you zoned out over matts shoulder. you wanted to go out tonight, give yourselves a break from work and the internet-but you both sat there like lumps of coal. having nothing to talk about, not even the boreless small talk about television, or recent family drama.

the two of you were already bickering on the drive over, but even the red roses and the suited waiters couldn't distract you guys from the storm cloud hanging over you. you didn't want the cloud to spill, but there wasn't much that you could do to fight back.

matt sets his wine glass down, watching you sit there. “sorry,” he mumbles. a dry apology escaping his lips. snapping you back to reality. when you don’t respond he continues, “for what happened in the car.” you’ve been in the restaurant for 45 minutes and its the first sentence he spoke to you since you sat down.

shrugging, you set your fork down on the table, meeting his crystalized eyes. “don't apologize, I wasn't listening to you.” you were listening to him, but you knew he wouldn't drop it if you didn't take part of the blame.

it's only temporary,

it would be crazy for you to not know that matt doesn't care about all the sappy shit, he's only in the relationship for one thing. and that one thing definitely isn't your mental well being. he didn't really care if you accepted his apology, he just wanted to make sure you were still in his bed when he woke up in the morning.

he kept his eyes on you as he picked up his pasta, and put it in his mouth. his stare had a death grip on you and you were too intimidated to look away. “you gonna eat that?” he queried, pointing at your barely touched spaghetti. “that’s going to cost me a lot of money.”

holding back a scoff, you sat forward, twirling the pasta onto your fork and eating it. “better?” you mumbled, it felt snarky leaving your lips, but you didn't care. you were still pissed about the car ride.

“don't be a brat, y/n.” he shot back, furrowing his brows at you. “you’re such a fucking mess.” he huffed.

don’t be so messy headed.

it took everything in you not to frown at his words. “god, ill pay you back.” you muttered, leaning back against your chair again. your appetite still not coming back to you;

he looked away from you, eyeing his fettuccine. “why dont you ever listen?” he groaned. now too, picking at his food. 

you stared at him, his words pissing you off entirely.

you grabbed the bottle of wine, pouring it into your glass before shooting it down. “i'm going home.” you said, standing up, “ill call an uber.” you were insanely frustrated, and you weren't going to let matt keep shoving you around.

we’re drunk in these fancy places,

“woah- hey, baby-” his eyes were wide as he stood up too, reaching out too you. “you can barely walk, you drank too much-”

the sound of him dropping his fork made a harsh CLANK! and several people looked up from their dinner, now paying attention to the both of you. a wave of embarrassment washing over you as more and more eyes began to pile onto you.

i help you navigate ‘cause nobody ‘round you makes an effort-

you narrowed your eyes at him, he was right, you had way too much wine, but you weren't going to let him know that. “ill be fine,” i muttered, unhooking my purse from the chair.

“yeah if you want to get yourself killed,” he sighs, calling the waiter over and quickly paying for your meals and walking after you. throwing his jacket over his shoulder in a hurry. “i can take you home.”

-and i wanna make an effort.

you huff, running your hands down your face as you walk out of the restaurant. suddenly realizing your jacket is in matt's car. hugging yourself to combat the december weather, you stand outside the front door.

“darling c’mon,” matt walked out of the restaurant after you. “ill take you home, you don't have to go to my place.” he assuringly reached out, stepping in front of you. the look in his eyes told you that he actually wanted to bring you back to your house, not wanting to overstep you while you had alcohol pounding through your veins.

step outside but not to brawl,

you shrug him off, pushing his hand away and attempt to walk back inside where it was still warm. the half bottle of wine and your four inch heels weren't a good mix, and they left you stumbling above the pavement.

“y/n-” matt called out again, reaching forward. grabbing your hands when you completely stumble, almost fully hitting the ground. 

and, watch your feet try not to fall,

but it wasn't enough and you still scraped your knee on the concrete. “oh my fucking god,” you mumbled to yourself. letting matt pull you back up to your feet. you could feel the tears begin to ambush you, but you refused to let them fall right now.

or we’ll make it to the moon all scraped and bruised up.

matt met your eyes with a small frown. “are you alright?” he mumbled, grazing his thumb over your cheek.

“i’m fine,” you whispered. keeping your eyes entangled with his. you wanted to cry, in all honesty. your knee hurt, and you were embarrassed and frustrated.

he slightly nods, really not believing you. he clears his throat, gently tossing your arm over his shoulder so he can help you to the car. “c’mon, baby.” he mumbles, more to himself then to you.

. . . it's complicated, but it's temporary.

TAGLIST

@thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @fenoy7 @mlimmm @prettysturniolo @ssturniolo @gabbylovesreading @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @matthewmurdockswife @jellybeanbby @slaysturniolo @iheartshifting @mxqdii @luvsturniolo @lvrsparadise @partoftoofuckinmanyfandoms